


Rain Rain Go Away

by DreamingPagan



Series: Graced [10]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: I have no shame, M/M, Pure Schmoop, Tooth Rotting Fluff, self indulgent rainy morning cuddles fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 04:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingPagan/pseuds/DreamingPagan
Summary: A rainy day in Nassau can be a disaster - or an excuse to go back to bed. Hal Gates chooses the latter.





	Rain Rain Go Away

The sky’s opened up above Nassau. The rain pours down - trees lash at each other, thunder rumbles -

Or maybe, Hal Gates thinks with a fond snort, that sound is just his husband, lying next to him sound asleep like the senior officer he’s been for the past decade and snoring to beat the storm.

“Hey,” Hal whispers, “hey Eirnin.”

Eirnin slumbers on, and Hal suppresses the urge to giggle. The man looks ridiculous - truly ridiculous when he’s asleep, not the fierce old man half the island knows only as the master of the ship yard, or the former pirate they take him for (and Gates has even heard them whisper that Eirnin Hennessey is Every himself come to Nassau again. He’s seen, too, his husband give the whisperers a taste of his best Irish drawl, and caught his ironic glance at Hal). If those men could only see him now -

Eirnin snores again, and nuzzles the pillows, and Hal can’t help but chuckle. Fierce as Every, alright - and twice as adorable, and the thought leads him to lay a hand on his husband's shoulder. 

“Eirnin,” he whispers again, and shifts a bit in the bed. “Eirnin, we’re off course.”

His husband wakes with a grunt.

“Damn Hobson,” he mutters, throwing the covers aside, “I told him to change tacks an hour ago-”

His hand touches the soft mattress they lay on, and he swears.

“Hal Gates -” he starts, and then looks at Hal, truly looks at him, and melts.

“Too damned pleased with yourself by half,” he mutters with faux irritation, and flops on the bed once more, crawling in under the covers. “Don’t you dare complain about my cold feet,” he mumbles, and Hal chuckles again.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answers, and leans over, placing a kiss on his husband’s stubbly cheek to receive one in return.

“You need a shave, love,” he says, and Eirnin makes a hmm noise.

“Leave it alone, it’s more reputable than yours, you scoundrel,” he murmurs with a small grin.

“Going to go native on me then?” Gates asks.

“Would you object?” Eirnin asks sleepily, and Hal shakes his head.

“Not one bit. You might, though - itches like anything in this heat.”

There’s no answer from Eirnin - he’s managed, somehow, to get his now icy feet up against Gates’ calves, and his nose against his neck, and he’s beginning to breathe in the slow, steady way that indicates he’s gone to sleep again.

The wind continues to blow, and the rain comes down harder, and Hal can’t say he blames his husband one bit for his lethargy.

“Night, love,” he murmurs, though he is certain that when the storm passes, the sun will have risen over the horizon. Until then, though -

He wraps his arms around Eirnin, and pulls the covers tighter around both of them. The morning can wait.


End file.
